


Who Said It Was Easy?

by bendleshnitz1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendleshnitz1/pseuds/bendleshnitz1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few moments of Ron and Hermione during that first year after Hermione is back form Hogwarts. WIP!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for urbanmama1 who bid for this on the community helpbrazil2011. I'm terribly sorry this is so late! Hope I can make up for it. Here's the first part and there's still more to come.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First morning Ron and Hermione wake up together as a couple doesn't go quite as planned.

**Who Said It Was Easy? – Part 1**

**  
**

An annoying beeping sound woke her up.

_Beepbeepbeep … Beepbeepbeep … Beepbeepbeep_

Hermione kept her eyes closed, slightly arching her back against the mattress, wishing the noise would to stop.

_Beepbeepbeep … Beepbeepbeep … Beepbeepbeep_

No, it wasn't going to stop. So, reluctantly, she started opening her right eye, as if afraid of the bright morning light. However, the blinding sunlight breaking through the window would be the most insignificant concern in her life in just a second, when a big hand came right into her face.

"Ooww!" she cried as the huge palm hit her nose, pushing it slightly upwards.

Sheets ruffled as someone struggled against them. She didn't care. Hermione could only cradle her nose between her fingers and fight back the tears that instantly welled up in her eyes.

"Wha'? Shhhhhit. Hermione, are you okay? I'm so sorry. The- the alarm w—I thought. Fuck. Sorry. I didn't mean—Crap, is that blood?" Ron asked hastily in practically one breath.

Hermione looked at him through blurry eyes and now bloody fingertips. She couldn't answer. To her chagrin, more tears came to her eyes. Why wouldn't they stop?

"Oh, no. Don't cry. I'll fix it. I'm sorry!" he said, bouncing off the bed and running to the bathroom. "Oh, buggering bollocks," she heard him mutter right before he dashed into the room again carrying an old dark blue shirt.

Kneeling on the mattress, he softly laid one hand on her head as if he was afraid she would break like her nose probably had, and prompted her to press the shirt against her nose. When she did, he started frantically looking around, searching for his wand.

"Use mine," Hermione said, her voice unusually nasal. With wand in hand, he looked helplessly at her. " _Episkey_."

"R-right. _Episkey_ ," Ron muttered under his breath, waving the wand around her nose, trying to control the shaking of his hand.

She noticed the bleeding stopping instantly and the pain fading away after two deep breaths. With a sigh, Hermione relaxed and smiled reassuringly at a very shaken Ron before taking her wand back to clean the dried blood with one swift motion. Only when he saw her without any trace of blood did Ron relax and put both hands against her cheeks. Leaning forward with much more care than he would under other circumstances, he pressed his forehead against hers letting his long nose touch hers ever so lightly.

"You forgot I was here," Hermione said resolutely.

He opened his eyes and looked guiltily into her. "I- I..."

"I cannot believe you, Ron," Hermione reproached, snapping his hands away from her face. "This is the first time we wake up in the same room and I end up with a broken nose and a bloody face!"

"I didn't mean to! I was asleep and that bloody alarm just wouldn't stop-" Ron couldn't go on. His girlfriend suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, her mood changing in a heartbeat. He looked at her dumbfounded, running his words in his head over and over again in an attempt to find what could have made her end up in this state. This had happened before. More times than he could count, Hermione hadn't even smiled at his intended jokes, but she seemed extremely amused at things he did without even meaning to be funny. "What is so funny?" he finally asked.

"We must be quite a sight," she said, chuckling and drying the tears from the corner of her eyes.

They glanced at each other, their eyes lingering on the other's naked body. Ron's shirt and his old, cotton sheets stained with Hermione's blood pooled around her hips.

"We are, aren't we?" Ron said in a hoarse voice, fighting the blush that made his ears burn.

Then, he grabbed her legs and pulled her down, her back hitting the mattress. She looked so happy, laughing hysterically with her bushy hair framing her face in a crazy disarray, that Ron couldn't help but smile as he climbed on top of her and kissed her slowly. Hermione moaned and quickly slid her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his hair.

"Good morning, love," Ron whispered against her cheek, kissing softly the corner of her mouth.

Hermione looked up at him and smiled that smile she reserved just for him. "This is how I want to wake up every day of my life," she said with a happy sigh.

"This _is_ how you'll wake up every day of our lives, then." He chastely kissed the tip of her nose. "Unless you sleep on my side of the bed and I break your nose trying to turn the alarm clock off," Ron finished, laughing.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to surprise Ron but it doesn't go quite as planned.

**Who Said It Was Easy? – Part 2**

**  
**

Ron glanced at the clock for the tenth time in five minutes. He tried to focus on the papers in front of him and make good use of the thirty minutes he still had ahead before he could rush off to his apartment. Hermione had promised a surprise and his mind raced trying to figure out what it could be. More often than not, his guessing process ended with images of her naked wearing just his Chudley Cannon socks and Honeydukes' melted chocolate smeared in interested places.

Thankfully, today's tasks consisted of nothing but paperwork. Ron normally dreaded days like this, but he was so excited he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on a mission or dealwith life-or-death situations.

"Ron, would you relax? Tapping your foot on the floor like that won't make time go faster," Harry whispered loudly. Their desks were right next to each other, only separated by a thin wall that barely reached half of Ron's chest when he was standing up.

"Well, I can't help it, can I? How would you feel if... if..." Just the thought of his sister doing to Harry any of the things he imagined Hermione doing to him made him want to have an aneurism. "Never mind," he muttered, sighing in defeat and trying to complete the form in front of him.

"Mr. Weasley, you have a call. Fireplace number 325," said Maxindra, the floor secretary. "Family emergency."

Ron stood up immediately, looking worriedly at Harry whose face paled as well. What could have happened? He ran to the fireplace indicated and knelt in front of it, seeing a very distressed but slightly amused George.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

George stifled a laugh. "I really don't know. Your bird has gone bonkers, Ronniekins. I was enjoying the amusing soundtrack of clattering pots and muttered curses coming from upstairs, but now there's smoke coming out of our apartment and I would like to keep my place not so coal-like if you know what I mean."

"What? Is she all right?"

"Well, I went to check but she screamed at me to get the hell out of there if I valued my 'future babies maker'," George said, shuddering but never letting the smile fall from his face. "She scared the crap out of my customers so I'm closing the shop for the day and spend the night at Angie's."

"Okay. I'll be there in a minute."

"My property had better be in one piece when I get back tomorrow, Ron!" George threatened before ending the communication, the threat losing some credibility as he failed to suppress a chuckle.

Ron went back to his desk to grab his coat.

"What's happened?" asked Harry anxiously.

"I don't know. Something about Hermione cursing and smoke coming from upstairs..." he said shaking his head. "I'll have to go."

"Okay. Let me know if she's all right," Ron heard Harry say as he rushed to the Apparition point.

To Ron's surprise, for the first time ever, George wasn't joking. The shop was half filled with dark smoke that came through the stairs leading to their apartment. As he made his way upstairs, the sounds of pots, things falling and – _Oh, no_ – curses became louder. Nothing meant trouble like Hermione cursing. Suppressing a shudder, Ron banged on the locked door.

"Hermione! Open up!"

"Ron?" Hermione's voice sounded really distraught, making him even more worried. "What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be here for another half hour! I still ha—Aaaahh!"

"Hermione! Are you okay? Open the bloody door or I'm gonna bust—" Before he could say another word, the door opened and revealed a wild looking Hermione.

Her hair was bushier than ever, her face was covered with flour and some kind of red sauce, and she was wearing an apron that was burnt at the bottom. Hermione looked like a complete mess; however, Ron couldn't find it in him to laugh as he would have done under other circumstances. Her bottom lip was quivering a bit and he noticed she was holding one hand tightly with the other. He took a long step forward and hugged her tightly to his chest, caressing her untamed hair.

"I burnt my hand," she practically whimpered, making his heart break a little.

"Let me see," he said quietly, taking her small hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you're okay," Ron whispered, pressing his face against the top of her head. "George scared the crap out of me."

Hermione just buried her head in his chest and didn't say anything for a while until a small whimper escaped her lips. "I don't deserve you," she said in a small voice.

If Ron hadn't actually felt her hot breath against his shirt, he would have thought he had imagined her saying those words. "What? How can you ever think that?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Well, how could I? I'm the worst girlfriend in history!" she said stepping away from him and pacing around the small hallway next to the door. "I cannot even cook a homemade dinner for you. You!" she exclaimed, playing with her hair and making it crazier by the second. "Of all the people..." She chuckled in disbelief.

As Ron stood there, he wasn't sure whether she was insulting him or... Oh, Merlin. She was regretting being with him. She didn't love him! He'd feared this day might come but that didn't make the blow less painful. Ron watched her hopelessly as he tried to recover the breath that had been knocked right out of him.

"The girl who cannot cook even if life depended on it falls in love with the one man who loves eating more than breathing! Talk about irony," she finished with a humourless laugh.

Her words repeated in his head over and over again. "Falls in love"... That meant... For the second time in the last ten minutes he breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione loved him. She still loved him. So much so that she would burn her hand attempting to surprise him with dinner she had prepared from scratch.

In one stride and with a huge smile on his face, Ron pressed his hands on either side of Hermione's face and started kissing her deeply. Her soft lips parted as she gasped in surprise and he instantly thrust his tongue to caress hers, earning a moan that sent goosebumps down his arms.

The smartest, kindest and most beautiful witch to ever live was putty in his hands as he kissed her brains out for loving him enough to cook. Ron knew how much Hermione hated exposing her weaknesses – not that she had many – and cooking was definitely not her forte.

Way too soon for his liking, the need to breathe made it impossible for them to continue snogging. Pressing their foreheads together, he savoured the sight of a flushed and breathless Hermione in front of him.

"You cooked dinner for me?" His face was going to break from grinning so widely.

She bit on her lower lip in embarrassment, making him groan. She was sexy without even trying and the simplest things could set his pulse racing.

"I _burnt_ dinner," she muttered, pouting without even realising.

He chuckled. "I'm sure it's not that bad," he tried to console her. He kissed her softly. "Thank you. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"No, I'm not. I ruined your surprise and almost set your and your brother's kitchen on fire."

Ron smiled adoringly at her, gently caressing her soft cheeks with his thumbs. "Good thing you're the brightest witch of our age then," he said with a wink. "I love you, Hermione. To me, you're the best girlfriend I could ever ask for because it's you, with or without cooking." She slapped him playfully, making him laugh. "C'mon. I'm sure it's not that bad," he said, sliding his arms around her waist and walking to the kitchen.

It was a war zone: worse than Hogwarts after The Final Battle. Hermione must have seen the shock in his face and groaned loudly in despair.

"I told you!" she cried, burying her face against his arm.

"D-don't worry. It- We can-" he sighed in defeat. There was no way around this. "Well, look at it this way, here's another chance for you to teach me how to use the fellytone and order the Muggle delivery stuff!"


End file.
